


A Series Of Experiments

by panicattackkisses



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, I'm Not Really Sure..., Love/Hate, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicattackkisses/pseuds/panicattackkisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What started out as a one shot then turned into something more. A slightly more OOC version of my favourite couple, featuring smartass, confident Stiles and a non existent plotline? Not going to lie, I'm not sure where this is going..</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series Of Experiments

“Leave me alone’’.

A pillow was thrown across the room, landing on top of a strawberry blonde head with a soft thump. The girl underneath the offending object huffed in protest, her words - which most likely consisted of the swearing variety - were muffled as she lay face down on the bed. 

Lydia muttered obscenities under her breath as pushed herself up, the pillow landing on the floor unnoticed. Scraping her long curls away from her face, the girl sat atop the unmade bed, her legs curled beneath her as she glared at the boy across the room.

Stiles Stilinski sat perched on his desk, surrounded by open textbooks and stacks of paper. He swung his long legs back and forth as he grinned smugly, a pen twirling from his dexterous fingers.

“I told you I’d have you talking again’’.

Another sigh erupted from Lydia’s lips, although this time, Stiles was sure it was closer to a growl. The girl’s emerald eyes flashed dangerously as she swung her bare legs off of the bed, the hem of her floral skirt swishing as she stalked towards him.

The smile fell from Stiles’ face as quickly as Lydia stalked across the room. Her small hands created an impressive bang as the landed on the desk; one on either side of his legs.  
Despite the fact that Stiles was sitting down, the girl still had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. His golden eyes sparkled playfully and he parted his lips to speak, his expression already full of mischief and sarcasm.

“Don’t”, Lydia all but hissed, “Do not open your mouth, Stilinski - I am not in the mood’’.

Her warning was accepted without much fear and Stiles continued regardless. He caught the waistband of Lydia’s skirt with one hooked finger as he pulled her towards him. Trapped by Stiles’ long and surprisingly strong legs, Lydia was unable to ignore his teasing pout.

“You’ve been a grumpy little shit ever since we stopped studying, what’s wrong?’’

Lydia crossed her arms over her chest, exaggerating her assets in her low cut blouse. She narrowed her eyes as her friend’s gaze dropped for a not so sly glance, before he quickly looked back up with a non-apologetic grin.

The girl decided to address the first issue at hand. She prodded his chest with one manicured finger, smiling slightly in satisfaction as Stiles frowned and rubbed the spot soothingly.

“I’m a grumpy little shit, am I?’’

Stiles’ smile was lazy and lopsided as he raised his eyebrows back at her, his legs still wrapped around the back of her thighs. He squeezed playfully.  
“You’re an adorably grumpy little shit’’, his voice was full of sincerity as he corrected himself but Lydia rolled her eyes anyway. 

She wriggled her small body away from his own and the boy gave in, dropping his legs as Lydia stepped away with a scowl still on her pretty face.  
Undeterred, Stiles smiled at her and opened his mouth to speak again before he was interrupted by a loud and rather irritating ‘ping’.  
The boy picked up his cell and read the message that had just came through, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. His fingers moved across the screen with an impressive speed and Lydia watched through dangerously narrow eyes. This had been happening for over an hour now, the continuous beeping interrupting their previous studying.

The girl shifted from foot to foot, her arms still crossed over her chest in what could only be described as a seriously pissed off stance.  
When Stiles’ phone beeped again… and again with more texts, Lydia huffed and flounced back to the bed before unceremoniously throwing herself upon it. Of course, the fact that she had seen Malia’s name flash on Stiles’ screen more than once had nothing to do with her current mood.

 

Her hair fell around her in an auburn curtain and she saw nothing but darkness as she buried her face into the duvet that smelt like Stiles.  
Although she couldn’t see, she certainly heard Stiles approach her. The denim of his jeans scraped against the wood as he hopped down from his seat on the desk. His bare feet were almost silent against the floorboards and his next words were close to her ear and laced with humour. 

“You’re still being a grumpy little shit, Lydia’’.

“Screw you, Stilinski’’, Lydia’s harsh words were dulled by the muffled squeak she said them in, her lips moving against the thick duvet. No, Malia Tate and her constant texts to Stiles weren’t bothering her at all.

“Oh, so we’re going by last names - you are pissed’’, Stiles held back a laugh as he prodded at the girl’s sides gently, taking great enjoyment in the way she squirmed under his touch. Finally, she batted his hands away with tiny fists before she rolled over and away from the boy.

Sighing, Stiles rose from his crouched position beside his bed and he clambered up beside his friends spread eagle limbs.

“Move over, Jesus Christ woman…’’ Stiles tutted as he shoved Lydia’s arms away from his side of the bed, ignoring her huffs of protest. He quickly got comfortable and then made himself busy by brushing Lydia’s hair away from her face, curl by long, fiery curl.  
When he was finally done and he could see the side of her face, he smiled and moved closer to her, his warm breath brushing across her cheek.

“What’s wrong?’’

Lydia was silent for a few seconds and she could her heartbeat through the mattress, the slow but steady thump becoming increasingly consistent as Stiles’ hand moved across her cheek, tracing the curves of her jaw before pulling playfully on her earlobe.

“Nothing’’, she replied shortly.

“What’s wrong?’’ 

Finally, Stiles thought, she moved her head so she faced the boy, crease marks from the blanket creating faint lines across her smattering of freckles. She wrinkled her nose as Stiles smiled at the sight.  
Once Stiles pouted with those soft, defined lips, Lydia let her mouth open and the words come out. Or, she would have if Stiles’ cell hadn’t have pinged once more. 

“Seriously?’’ 

Stiles’ eyes widen as Lydia hauled herself up from the bed, her hair wild as her facial expression. 

“See! You are pissed off!’’ Stiles’ words were triumphant before he sat up and gazed at her imploringly, “What the hell is wrong with you?’’

Another text beeped impatiently from the boy’s phone.

Lydia growled, as in, she actually growled like a wild animal. It was that moment that Stiles became slightly scared of the girl in his bedroom and suddenly so much more aware of the situation.  
He pointed innocently to his cell that still sat upon his desk. Lydia followed his finger with a narrowed glare. She stared at him as the device beeped for the third time in under a minute. 

“My phone, that’s what’s pissing you off?’’

Lydia assumed her stance of crossed arms and raised eyebrows. The girl had to practically restrain herself from clapping her hands at the boy’s question. She rolled her eyes instead, her go to response with Stiles. 

Stiles tilted his head in confusion, looking up at her from his position on the bed and reminding Lydia of a puppy. The girl softened only slightly before another text came through, vibrating constantly until it rattled not only the wooden desk it sat on, but also Lydia’s shrinking patience.  
With lightning quick reflexes that would have impressed even Derek, the girl scooped up Stiles’ cell and threw it to him.

With a speed that Lydia hadn’t anticipated, Stiles caught in with deft hands, his long fingers curling around the noisy object as he raised an eyebrow at his friend.

Smirking, Lydia bit out, “Your new puppy requires your attention’’.

Stiles let out a sharp laugh as he dropped the cell and stood, his arms folded tightly across his chest and drawing Lydia’s attention to the thick cords of muscles that wrapped around them. She swallowed heavily before standing to her full height, watching Stiles cautiously as he strolled towards her.  
Lydia saw the playful gleam in his eye, one she knew too well. It was a sparkle that light up his brown orbs; turning them into liquid gold framed by long, thick lashes. She started to move away, unsure of his intentions and wary of the words he was going to say.

“Ah, ah, ah… wait a minute’’, Stiles caught her wrist gently, his large rough hands capturing it easily before sliding down to tangle their fingers together. He pulled her towards him and the girls mouth became dry, her feet moving on their own accord.

“Are you jealous?’’ 

It was then, with those words, that Lydia snapped out of her Stiles induced trance. Those golden eyes turned mischievous as her lips parted and she gaped openly at his question. In a very unladylike fashion, the banshee spluttered; her eyes narrowed as she glared up at the boy who was now grinning.

“Excuse me?’’ 

Stiles beamed, extremely happy with himself that he managed to trip up the forever articulate Lydia Martin. 

“You heard me, are you jealous?’’ 

Lydia was now openly staring at him, her mouth open in shock - mainly due to the fact that she never expected Stiles Stilinski to have the balls to ask her such a question. 

Stiles lips widened into a smirk, his tongue peeking out playfully from between his teeth as he kept a grip on Lydia’s hand. 

His eyes were bright, interested and trained intently on the girl. He took her silence as a conformation.

“You so are…”

He hardly had the last word spoken before Lydia yanked her hand from his own and backed away from the boy. All of a sudden, the room was too warm, the balance had shifted, the world was flat, galaxies had been ripped apart and the unthinkable had happened. Stiles was in control.

“Stiles Stilinski, what are you trying to say?” Lydia’s voice was level and calm, but underneath her cool exterior she was warm, heat travelled through her veins and she wasn’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or the way Stiles was looking at her. 

The boy left out a soft laugh that made Lydia’s stomach clench and her heart stutter. She blinked up at him, watching as he took one more step towards her and picked up a long curl that draped over her shoulder. 

He carefully tucked it behind her ear as he smiled at her uneven breath and puckered brow. 

“What I’m trying to say, Miss Martin, is that I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice”. 

The silence that surrounded the two friends seemed to stretch on forever. Lydia bit down on her bottom lip as Stiles’ words resonated through her. Her cheeks flushed, her breathing almost stopped and a small gasp escaped her as she watched Stiles’ chocolates brown eyes darken. 

The floorboards ached under their feet as Stiles’ shuffled almost awkwardly as some of his bravado was lost. 

The boy licked his lips anxiously and his toes touched Lydia’s as they stood face to face. The sun that shone through the window made Lydia’s hair look like burning embers and her long lashes created shadows across her cheeks. Freckles lay in constellations across the bridge of her nose and Stiles counted them before he caught his breath and finally parted his lips to speak. 

Lydia heard the sharp intake of air as his lips parted, the sound his tongue made as he swept it across his bottom one nervously. The TV made muffled sounds from downstairs, the noise distorted and tinny. The fridge door could be heard closing as Sheriff Stilinski made dinner, the bottles inside clattering together. Lydia was hyperaware, her sense reaching supernatural levels that she never knew was banshee related… or simply Stiles related.

“Do you trust me?”

Lydia squinted up at Stiles, his strange and unexpected words throwing her slightly. She didn’t like this, these unanticipated situations that her friend seemed to manage them into. Moments filled with tension and heat and stomach clenching seconds.  
Or the way that Stiles managed to throw her trail of thought off balance and make her words become trapped in her chest - like now.

She watched how his Adam’s apple bob as he waited on her answer. Without any hesitation or doubt - only mere curiosity - Lydia nodded. Warmth and slight relief flooded Stiles’ eyes and he took another shuffled step towards her. The rough denim of his jeans brushed her bare legs, the floaty chiffon of her skirt tickling her thighs as it brushed against her skin. His large hands found the dip of her waist and Lydia startled, her skin erupting in goosebumps before she stumbled wildly out of his touch. 

Her eyes were wide and bright, her expression one of surprise. The girls cheeks were flushed as she stammered in a very un-Lydia like fashion.

“What, Stiles - what are you doing?’’

Stiles’ eyebrows were raised as he took in his friends flustered appearance and a small smile broke out on his lips as he watched her eyes dart across his face, trying in vain to avoid looking at his mouth. 

“I asked if you trusted me Lydia…’’ Stiles tried to keep the smile out of his voice as he spoke but he was having so much fun watching her reaction to him. It wasn’t everyday that Lydia seemed so nervous around him. But lately, well lately - Stiles was noticing more and more. Like the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. But Stiles was always paying attention.  
He noticed the way Lydia leaned into him in the dark living room of pack movie night, the way she curled herself into his too big jumpers on colder nights.  
The way she would jump when his hand found the small of her back in the large crowds on lacrosse game night. The way she would bite her lip when they found themselves too close to each other. 

Lydia spun around him, avoiding his body with a wide berth as she kept her eyes trained on his own. Stiles spun in a slow circle, trying really hard not to allow his laughter out as he followed her movements.  
Eventually Lydia ended up back where she started, by Stiles bed. Her body flooded with heat and she was pretty sure her vital organs were shutting down on her,. Because, being in Stiles’ bedroom was a normal situation - being in Stiles’ bedroom whilst he looked at her like that, was not. 

Her knees hit the back of the mattress and she was forced to sit down, her body bouncing slightly as it hit the springs. She narrowed her eyes at the boy as his gaze once again dropped appreciatively to her chest. 

“Stiles’’, she warned.

Her friend merely grinned in response before dropping to the floor in front of her, his knees hitting the rough wooden floors and he looked up at her from underneath his lashes as his fingertips fluttered over her bare knees. Lydia’s breath caught painfully somewhere in her chest - she almost swore. 

The burning sensation that Stiles’ touch created barely had time to evaporate from her skin before he covered each knee with his hands, the rough palms making Lydia’s heart speed up to rates she knew were dangerously unsafe.  
With another little awkward shuffle, Stiles moved closer to her, parting her legs in the most sinful way before she moved between them, his warmth breath ghosting over her lips and his delighted smile all she could focus on. 

Before she could ask her friend, one again, what he was doing, Stiles spoke. 

“You told me that you trusted me’’, Stiles spoke softly and quietly, his voice nothing more than a low murmur that Lydia felt vibrate through her chest.  
She swallowed with difficulty, her mouth suddenly dry. Instead she answered his statement with a small nod. 

“So, do you trust me to try something?’’

Lydia stared at him with wide eyes, her lashes almost brushing her brow bones. Her lips fell open and Stiles gaze dropped to her mouth before quickly flashing back up to meet her eyes. He smiled a small smile, a lazy, half grin that was saved especially for her.  
It was what greeted her every Sunday morning when she awoke from late night study sessions at the Stilinski household, her legs still tangled with Stiles’ and her body warm from his own. It’s the smile he used when he needed her forgiveness after stealing the last slice of pizza before he ended up giving her half. It’s the smile he used when he wanted something.

“I really want to try something, Lydia’’.

As he spoke, his voice dropped lower, his words became softer and Lydia hadn’t noticed that he moved closer until their noses brushed and they were sharing the same air.  
She inhaled sharply, her senses surround by the boy as he took one hand and placed it on her waist, rubbing her skin softly through her shirt.  
Their noses grazed as they refused to move closer, Lydia waiting impatiently to hear what else Stiles had to say. The room was silent, the traffic outside appeared to have stopped and the birds that usually sat on the tree outside of Stiles’ window seemed to have dropped off of the planet.

 

“It’s an experiment’’, Stiles’ lips almost brushed Lydia’s as he spoke and it was then that the pair realised that they had both closed their eyes in anticipation.  
Without seeing each her, Stiles could only feel Lydia’s small frame underneath his hands and her lips near his own as her warm breath rushed over his lips. His body was tense, hard and so, so impatient. 

“It’s for science then?’’ Lydia smirked, her cheeks twitching as he tried to hold in her laugher. But Stiles heard the humour in her voice and he smiled against her cheek, his lips pressing against her jawline as they continued to tease around the subject. 

“Yeah, definitely’’, Stiles coughed out the last word as Lydia’s hands came up to rest on the waistband of his jeans, her fingers hooking through his belt loops to pull him closer, “For science’’.  
Their noses bumped together again, an innocent touch that made Stiles’ stomach muscles tighten under Lydia’s touch.

There was no announcement, no countdown, no big showcase. When their lips touched, it was unexpected and unfamiliar - a little clumsy and all so innocent. But Lydia’s world stopped when Stiles placed his soft lips on her own.  
It lasted all of five seconds, a kiss worthy of a fourteen year olds diary. But they pulled apart only millimetres, enough for them to rest their foreheads together and for Lydia to feel Stiles’ muttered ‘’fuck’’ fall upon her still parted lips.

She let her hands wander north, up to find the open sides of his checked shirt. She clutched at them with surprising strength but did nothing to initiate another kiss. Her tongue snuck out to wet her own lips, out of anticipation, or nerves - she did not know. But what Lydia did know is that she accidentally brushed Stiles’ lips too. The low moan was all she heard before his lips crashed back down onto her own. 

This kiss was nothing like the first. Stiles grasped Lydia’s thighs before he pulled her into him, pressing their bodies together as he rose slightly on his knees; making Lydia’s head tilt back so she could still keep their lips melted together.  
His lips were hot against her own and her stomach dropped from the sensation. He pushed into her, with his mouth and body and she pushed right back. Their lips crushed against each other’s and the sighs and moans they released were lost between them - Stiles saw galaxies behind his closed eyelids his breath was coming in gasping pants as he tried to keep his lips firmly attached to Lydia’s as much as possible. 

He nipped at her bottom lip, making her gasp before he soothed it with his tongue, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he heard her approving groan. Lydia had almost forgotten the day of the week as she pushed her hips into his own, enticing another low moan from the boy that made her stomach clench and her thighs tighten around his hips.  
From somewhere far, far away in the distance, the pair heard Stiles’ phone beeping with new text alerts. But, he was lost in her and Stiles had to slow the kiss down as his hand slid from around her knee and upwards, his fingers brushing the hem of her skirt. Lydia whimpered at the contact and Stiles cursed into her parted lips. His mind was reeling from her touch, the taste of her lips and the sensation of her tongue dancing with his own. 

It was the sound of the Sheriff yelling upstairs and asking if they wanted pizza that made them finally part from each other. They stared at one another, wild eyes and messy haired as Stiles shouted back to his father, his voice hoarse and unsteady. He never took his eyes or hands off of the girl in front of him. 

Lydia’s eyes were hooded and dark, their usual hazel shade deepening to an emerald green that Stiles had never had the pleasure of seeing before. Her lips were damp and swollen from his own and his body ached to taste her again.  
She was flushed and he was overheating, and still, they sat holding onto to one another - scared that if they let go, they would float away. 

“So’’, Lydia’s voice was so quiet, Stiles wouldn’t have heard her if he wasn’t still sitting so close. She bit down on her lip as she met his gaze, ‘’What’s your hypothesis?’’

Stiles’ lips curled into that lazy grin once more and didn’t hesitate when he spoke, his brushing her jawline as he mumbled into her neck.

“You taste like the cranberry juice you had at lunch and I’m pretty sure the noises you just made are now my favourite sounds in the world. You get flustered and go all pink when I get too close but you’re suddenly stronger that Scott when you don’t want me to move away.  
You like it when I bite your lip,’’ Stiles’ playful tone dropped slightly lower at those words and he nipped at her ear.

He pulled away slightly to look into her eyes and Lydia tilted her chin up confidently despite the fact that she was still blushing from his words.  
Stiles watched with humour in his eyes as he grazed one finger over the sensitive skin behind her knee. Lydia squirmed.

“You’re ticklish here - and on your neck’’, he moved closer again, brushing his lips across his friend’s teasingly, “and I’m pretty sure you’re wearing lace underwear’’


End file.
